


Of Inns and Fawns

by KonaKona



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bears, Dom/sub Undertones, Faunlet, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 20:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15781917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KonaKona/pseuds/KonaKona
Summary: In a town such as this, hell, in a tavern such as this the boy surely wouldn’t last long. He squeaked at leering jokes from the customers and blushed whenever one of them got too near.





	1. Tavern

Credence looked flustered, always. And that was half the problem.

In a town such as this — in a  _ tavern _ such as this the boy surely wouldn’t last long. He squeaked at leering jokes from the customers and blushed whenever one of them got too near. He was nearly disastrous with the pitchers and broke at least one a shift. Graves couldn’t help but let his cold heart be warmed just a little by the runt. But that had been months ago.

That small plucking at his heart strings had only served to bring it to a full flame and make the fire of his passion roar inside his chest. He jealously watched as Credence wove around customers and chatted sweetly to regulars, politely to newcomers and then ducked his head when looking at him, his gaze instantly diverted from Graves’ stare. He didn’t know what he’d done for the boy to hate him so, and his feelings had become nothing less than dangerous for him. He thought of Credence incessantly - while hauling great pines around and labouring against hot furnaces his mind was on the pink flush of the boy’s cheeks.

This particular evening was spinning towards a tempest, the tavern was full with suspicious characters that usually travelled for the weekend markets, old boys were drinking to another weeks worth of work and Graves himself was getting steadily more displeased at the preferential treatment the boy showered the other customers with. He had held conversation with Credence plenty of times, he had even sook him out once or twice - on the rare occasion he was free from his work. He had once brought him extra firewood he’d happened to have. Credence had thanked him with wide eyes and stilted words. It had only served to make the searing heat of Graves’ feelings worse. The grateful lilt in his voice, how his small arms could barely keep the bundle of wood together, and further more, the small quiet walk they had shared together as Graves returned the boy to his own cabin on the outskirts of town. Did all of Credence’s customers do such things for him? Graves thought of the fish he had sold to Credence last week for barely a third of their true value, and how he had stumbled over his words to give him a recipe, told him how to gut the fish properly, and then done it for Credence himself, useless runt.

Credence had struggled with something by the bar, and Graves saw him sigh and roll a barrel towards the back door. Whether it was his own stupidity or the drink, it didn’t really matter. Graves got up and made his way through the front door around to the quiet and dark alleyway around the back. The cobbles shined with slick partially melted snow and he could see Credence in the half light of the moon weakly rolling an empty - _empty!_ Graves thought, _this creature struggles even to lift that!_ \- barrel towards the cellar.

He wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Credence had taken a short break in order to catch his breath, and as quickly as Credence had gasped at the large hulking shadow looming upon him, Graves had enveloped him in his arms.

“Ooof!! Mr. Graves!! You frightened me!” Credence squeaked, squirming and struggling lightly against Graves’ hold.

“You’re so weak, I could keep you right here if I wanted,” Graves had said, only to himself, under his breath. But the whiskey and the strange and oppressive feeling in his chest hadn’t allowed those words to carry only to his own ears, but to Credence’s. Credence’s lip wobbled, he did not cry for help, that same blush rose in his cheeks and if anything Graves felt Credence’s struggling little hands slacken against his arms.

Graves had been somewhat taken aback as Credence seemed to quiet and take the rough treatment Graves had so suddenly sprung on him. Partly this thrilled him, but his nostrils flared at the thought of anyone else exploiting such a thing like he was. He wished to ask questions of Credence, surely things which would humiliate him, he wanted to demand he not be such a floozy and growl at anyone Credence might pass by.

His grip had tightened as these thoughts fired through his head like the sound of his own pistol, ringing his ears. Credence made a noise, one that noticeably sweetened the air and spilled out like blood in the water, Percy circling nearby. A small and unconfident mewl as Graves’ large fingers bruised his upper arms.

Graves could have been completely sober and still felt entirely intoxicated by that noise, like a noose around his neck yanking him close to Credence, his stubble and curled beard brushed against the boy’s hairless cheek as he growled in his ear, “Would you like that?”

He could barely even remember what he was referring to, but obviously Credence had a clearer head and although he gave no visual cue, his pupils were blown so wide he looked like a young deer scrambling to sit up, desperate to get closer.

The fire in Graves pushed his body without thought until it completely caged in Credence against the sheltered wall behind the tavern, out of sight. Graves’ thick thigh was in between Credence’s legs, and Credence whimpered as Graves’ hands eagerly pushed underneath his clothes.

“You mustn’t- you mustn’t-“ Credence hiccuped, Graves did nothing to still his hands but looked him firmly in the eye, and felt Credence’s small hands clutch at the sides of his jacket - “What if someone else sees?” Credence finished, eyes panicky and shifting from Graves to the tavern door.

Graves was roughly gripping at Credence underneath his clothes and didn’t put much mind to whether someone saw or not, let them see.

He could only think of busying himself at nipping a ring of marks around Credence’s collar bones. And Credence seemed to enjoy that immensely.

Credence also seemed to quite enjoy Graves ignoring him, while still very much indulging in him. Credence’s mewls were getting needier, and Graves was growing impatient too, the leg shoved between Credence thighs hiked up and rubbed ever so slightly at the small mound in Credence’s trousers. Credence’s mouth popped open and the breath left him quickly, his eyes widened and then screwed together before he burrowed his face into Graves’ shoulder.

“I’ll give you what you need, boy.”

“N-no,” Credence gasps against Graves’ collar.

“Hush now,” Graves grunts against the boy’s ear, hands moving down to cup Credence through his trousers.

“W-with you- like- the same-“ It took Credence as long to stutter out that sentence than it did for Graves to to instigate this whole thing. Graves carried on regardless, Credence slowly rutting against his thigh as he got his fill. It was only when Credence’s wriggling became an issue that Graves stopped to grunt at him.

Credence blushed and seemed to pull away at first, causing Graves to growl and pull Credence closer once more, nails scoring marks against his back in a mild punishment. Then Credence managed to hook his arms around Graves’ neck and circle both legs around his thick waist.

Credence peered up at him from his position, small lump very apparent now with his legs spread wide and his back against the stone wall. Graves taking all the weight as Credence looks up at him inquisitively.

Graves so wants to spoil him in this moment, but there will be time for that later. Now he just wants to show Credence the reason why he has no need for any other men in the tavern, and why he won’t do for some time coming. Rather than giving Credence the room to move freely, the steps forward to make the space even smaller, and he feels Credence’s legs spread wider to accommodate him. Credence’s eyes visibly roll back and his head lolls to the side, displaying the pretty bruises Graves had left there already.

As if in some primal need to prove himself, Graves gathers up all the strength in his body and rolls his hips and his chest against Credence, whose helpless little moan makes Graves’ lip curl.

“Who taught you to make pretty sounds like that?” Graves measures out a fast pace and presses the hot line of thick flesh in his pants against Credence’s open legs. Credence’s throat clicks as he inhales drily and he makes a helpless cry.

“So-  _ oh _ -“ Credence manages to struggle out, as Graves thrusts hard to remind him just who has him pinned here, “No one- no one ever- oh  _ goodness _ -“ Credence doesn’t try to speak much more as the thrusts Graves delivers rack his body. He clings to Graves’ neck and offers his own up to the bites and nips from Graves’ teeth that he likes to deal out regularly.

In between the hard and unyielding thrusts from Graves he sometimes slowly presses and drags the bulge in his trousers against Credence’s which makes Credence’s vision go white from specks of stars.

Graves is achingly smug when the young thing's cries turn desperate and he feels the runt stiffen against him, his legs clasping him closer. As Credence fists a small handful of Graves’ hair, he brokenly calls out to Graves.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Graves grunts out, teeth bared, “Give it all to me, baby boy.”

Credence’s eyes blink slowly up at Graves as his thrusts grow slower, a short respite. Credence’s legs seem to slacken from around Graves’ waist until Graves’ hand quickly moves to slap them.

“What are you doing, hmm? Giving up? The youth of today know nothing of seeing through hard work.” Graves sniffs as Credence looks panicked and confused, “I haven’t finished yet, boy.”

Credence’s cheeks flush and his head ducks.

“S-sorry...” his legs spread again and Cre looks Graves deeply in the eye, Graves’ chest burns with the need to kiss him, bite him, “You can do- do what you need- whatever you like-“ Credence mumbles, eyes looking up at him from under his lashes, lips wet and shiny with spit, cheeks red and blotchy.

Graves grits his teeth as his crotch throbs, a snarl curling his lip, “I don’t  need _you_ to tell me that.”


	2. Shadows

Credence had been allowed to leave early, leave locking up to Mr. Jacobs who has showed him away. He knew he’d been entirely useless all night, glancing over to Mr. Graves’ corner far too frequently and making nervous trips to the tables nearby. Despite his very nervous efforts, they had been useless. Mr. Graves had barely looked or spoken to him since the  _ event _ in the alleyway on Friday night, all of  _ three _ days ago!

Credence worried that he had dreamed it up, but the vivid bruises on his arms and thighs said otherwise. He was worried he had misinterpreted the entire thing, that what he had thought had been intense looks and growled promises from Graves were just meaningless and said in the heat of the moment. He didn’t know Graves to be that kind of man, not at all. But what could Credence claim to know?

Credence collected up his things, his small cloth bag holding a change of clothes just in case he was lucky enough for Graves to ruin one set, as well as small snacks he had packed to nibble on, so he wouldn’t have to lose the pay he’d be deducted for a break.

The tavern was in the centre of town, whereas Credence’s home was right on the outskirts, near the river which brought merchants and water gypsies, it was a run down old place but Credence was happy to have it. It was a small inn run by a sweet older lady who worried over Credence, who only just made his monthly bill.

As Credence walked through town he felt strange, like the echo of his footsteps was not his own, but whenever he looked around, no one was there. It unsettled him that he had not wished Mr. Graves goodbye, but it was getting embarrassing now, that the older man merely nodded and returned to laughing and joking with his friends, as small and nervous Credence shivered at his elbow. Credence sighed dejectedly, hugging his bag closer to his stomach and for once longing for the warm bed he rented, rather than what he pictured Graves’ would be like. He wasn’t important to the man, he should stop daydreaming, Credence told himself, should stop brushing loving fingers over the bruises left on him and try to get on with his life.

There was minimal lighting closer to the inn, as the sconces distanced themselves from the town. As Credence neared his inn his neck hairs continued to stand on end, and he walked a little faster than usual - although not knowing why.

The inn stood alone, with a walled garden, the porch light was lit but there were no lights turned on inside, Mrs. Lees was in bed long ago. Other houses stood further away, and the nearest thing was a small stone shelter for market stalls in the Summer.

Credence felt incredibly anxious to pass the shelter, and made his way around it carefully in a wide circle. However from inside the shelter he could see something glinting on the ground, a dollar! Credence made his way quickly inside and barely had the chance to turn on his heel when he heard the scuff of large heavy boots from the other side of the shelter which remained in darkness.

He had barely let out a high pitched yelp before a large hand cupped itself over his mouth, holding in the noise, and a large, solid body crowded him against the wall from behind.

Credence tried his best to wriggle away, on his right his small arm was pinned to his side while his left hand clutched behind him.

“Do you really think you can get away?”

Credence’s eyes dropped and his hand stilled for a moment once he realised who it was. Graves must have followed him home, his legs more powerful and strong he made headway and hid in the shelter to scare Credence. He almost laughed at the whole thing, until Graves’ hand left his arm and ventured down. Credence felt Graves’ hand travel to the front of his crotch and then begin to unbutton his trousers.

He began to squirm again, and make nervous protests which were all but ignored by Graves. Unceremoniously, his pants were shoved down until he felt the cold air upon his bare bottom.

“Mmmmf!!!” Credence kicked his legs out and tried to turn around, his stomach a strange mix of nervous and bubbling with excitement.

“Stop struggling now, it’ll be over before you know it, boy.” Credence heard as Graves unbuttoned himself and his eyes rolled back as he was intimately aware of Graves’ manhood once again. He could feel Graves’ hand in the same place as days before, the bruises purpling again and tender.

“Legs together.”

Despite Credence’s protest he obediently locked his legs tightly together and whimpered. He knew his own excitement was evident and hoped Graves wouldn’t look and check, he hoped Graves would use him as he did before. Credence wants to turn into clay, mouldable and fitting into the palm of Graves' large hands, but knew just how delicious it was for Graves to fight him for it. 

Credence opened his mouth to scream, only playfully, only to feel Graves’ reaction. Graves growled fiercely in his ear, “ _ Hush _ , and behave.” Graves crowded even closer behind him and lifted Credence up from the floor, having Credence with both hands against the wall and his cheek smushed against the cold stone.

“I want you quiet. Understand?” Graves said, breath warm and wet against his ear. Credence whimpered and nodded. His bare bottom against the hair that covered Graves’ stomach and thighs. He heard Graves spit, and suddenly something warm and thick and wet was passing through his clenched thighs.

“Ah!-“ Credence began to help, until a harsh smack against his thigh made his bite his lip. Surely Graves wouldn’t- Credence was half filled with dread and half with utter contentment and such a thought.

The wet slapping sounds and Graves’ heavy grunts soon filled the small shelter as did Credence’s whimpers, which he only abated by stuffing a hand in his mouth.

“Why didn’t you- All weekend!” Credence was silenced again by a smack on his cheek, he could both hear and feel Graves bearing down on him. The feeling of such a example of manhood between his thighs had made him lightheaded, he wished to reach down to feel it breach the front of his thighs, which it did.

“ _ Sir _ ,” Graves corrected, leaning closely to Credence again.

Credence whined openly and stuck out his rear for another smack, “Why did you ignore me,  _ Sir _ !”

Graves grumbles somewhat agreeably, “Because you needed to be put in your place,  _ boy _ ."

Credence made a squeaking noise which embarrassed even him, he wondered whether Graves would allow him to finish, and then wondered why he wanted Graves’ approval at all.

He tried to squirm a little more, and even opened his legs wide which made Graves give a dissatisfied grunt, and bruised him up again with the rough shove he gave to bring his thighs back together again.

Credence felt so light headed and twisted up in strange emotions, and with horror and embarrassment, he felt fat tears begin to slip down his face, and his nose begin to run. He tried to conceal it, but his breath caught and the lump in his throat made it hard to whimper quietly.

“Are you crying, _nancy_ _boy_?” Graves whispered in disbelief, hips stilling for a moment, only to resume with harsher slower thrusts, the sound of Graves spitting once again making Credence shudder.

“ _ Please _ don’t ignore me again, Sir!” Credence whimpered, lip trembling and hands faltering on the stone.

“Oh, what a little  _ baby _ ,” Graves sounded like he was smiling, positively beaming, “I’ve got myself a little cry baby,  _ hmm _ ?”

Graves pawed at Credence’s face with a large hand, his thumb catching on his wet mouth and distorting it, Graves’ breath caught and his hips slowed as he pressed his thumb down on the soft warm feeling of Credence’s tongue.

“Suck.”

Credence without thinking began to trace the thick digit in his mouth, closing his red lips around Graves without even a thought over it.

He was somewhat kept quiet and occupied with Graves’ small command, and limp from receiving Graves’ harsh thrusts.

Credence could feel Graves nearing his end as his thrusts stuttered and went sloppy. Graves pulled away and while Credence whined at the cold and lonely feeling, he felt a sudden splash of something warm and wet against his red cheeks.

Graves seemed to pause for a moment, and Credence felt him wipe his wet cock against Credence’s thigh, contemplating the mess he’d made for a second. He took a satisfied breath, and a smug voice at Credence’s ear reminded him, “Say thank you.”

The thumb wasn’t removed from his mouth, but it retreated a little to allow Credence to say, cheeks red, “Thank you, Sir.”


End file.
